The Snowy City
by Soundspeed
Summary: Some time after reunification, the party decides to take a vacation. Each member goes their separate ways on the first evening, each resulting in a tale of their experiences. Eight intertwining short stories from Flanoir. Shelloyd, Gesea, various others.
1. The Right Ingredients

Namco owns all rights to _Tales of Symphonia_. I don't claim to own them. This work is not intended for any form of profit and has been written without permission.

This idea came to me sort of on a whim (or at least, it did when I originally started writing it, over a year ago). I was originally going to post it chapter-by-chapter but then realized that due to the structure it'd be better if I just wrote all eight before posting any of the story. Then, however, I decided that that was too tedious of a process to go through with little or no feedback, so I compromised. Thus, I will be putting the tales that comprise this story up two at a time. (For all you math people out there, that equals a total of four installments. No, Kratos does not get one. Sorry.)

The idea behind this collection is that each tale is its own complete, standalone story. However, each of the eight tales intertwine with the others so that when read in order, they form one single story. So when in doubt, read them in order.

In any case, Genis' tale has the honor of leading things off. Part one of eight.

* * *

**The Snowy City**

Genis' Tale: _The Right Ingredients_

The snow fell gently yet steadily upon the city of Flanoir, blanketing everything from buildings to small children in a formidable layer of sparkling, crystalline fluff. Those who inhabited the cozy city were accustomed to this sort of climate; Celsius could unleash a blizzard whenever she got bored, which apparently was commonplace. Even Mana had trouble understanding her temperament sometimes. However, to those who considered themselves travelers, the weather was far from usual.

"Huh…meet up at the inn by midnight," Genis muttered, recalling his sister's words. Shivering slightly, he brushed some snow off the tip of his nose, where it had been collecting. "What am I supposed to do for four hours? It's freezing!"

He had thought for one wild moment about asking Presea to spend the time with him. But when he'd finally built up enough courage to do just that, everyone had already walked off. He had found himself standing alone in the middle of the square with no company other than the clock tower. And that didn't make for particularly interesting conversation, even at the top of the hour.

Despite this, the young mage felt drawn to the tall structure, ignoring the young kids beside him throwing snowballs at each other. At its base were a few decrepit stone steps leading up to a door that was, nowadays at least, forever locked. He didn't quite know the reason why, but he had heard that some kids had gotten hurt while playing inside. Shaking the thought off, he approached the door, standing in the very threshold where, that one day that seemed so long ago—before reunification, even—a man named Abyssion had approached them with a very interesting request.

"Stupid Devil's Arms," he mumbled, fingering the hilt of his Disaster. "Lot of good they did him." To this day, he still refused to use his in battle. Perhaps for what they'd threatened to do to Presea. The thought of which promptly led him back into thinking about her again.

"Can't I think about anything else for more than two seconds?" he berated himself. Just then, a snowball promptly collided with his face, the force knocking him over.

One of the kids that had been playing nearby approached him cautiously, his features painted now with fear of the silver-haired stranger. "S—sorry mister," he mumbled, scooping some of the snowball fragments off the ground as though it were some sort of apology. When he was done with his busy work he hurriedly ran back to rejoin his friends.

Genis said nothing during the encounter, only moving to sit up. Now that the kid had left he brought a hand to the side of his face, feeling the moist flakes that had gathered from the makeshift projectile. He took his hand away, studying it and the small pile of snowflakes that lay in his palm. And for some odd reason, an idea started forming in his mind.

* * *

"Whaddya mean, the shop is closed!?" Genis was practically hysterical at this point. "Come on, it's not even eight-thirty!"

The shopkeeper sighed and shook his head visibly from behind the eye slot in his front door. "That's correct. And this happens to be my one day to close early, at eight o'clock on the hour. Now if you'll excuse me…"

Genis couldn't believe his rotten luck. "Please," he begged, not willing to give up just yet. "Just five minutes."

The man seemed to soften for a moment, and then after what seemed like an eternity, opened the door. "…All right."

"Yes!" the mage jumped and enthusiastically flashed a V-for-victory, though not to anyone in particular. "Thanks so much!" He was about to dash inside—the cold was starting to get to him—when he found his progress impeded by the shopkeeper's frame still standing in the threshold.

He looked up and saw the shopkeeper grinning slyly. "But…" he said, "…you have to do something for me in return."

Genis wasn't sure what to make of this potentially-disastrous request, but eventually he decided to chance it. "Okay…sure." The contract agreed upon, the shopkeeper nodded in assent and beckoned the young half-elf into his establishment.

Not wasting any time, Genis quickly got to work looking for the things he'd need. It wouldn't be near the front with the gels; that was for sure. After some brief scouring of the back, he found two identical red ribbons. _Perfect_.

He was about to resume his search when something on the wall caught his eye. It looked like a picture frame. He approached the wall and inspected it further, examining the object.

It was a portrait of a woman with a child on her lap, sitting together on a simple wooden stool. The woman's eyes were of a deep blue hue, her sincere, confident smile only making them seem more radiant. She had brown hair that reached her shoulders. The child shared her eyes, but had blond hair, his face twisted into an absurd, energetic grin. He looked kind of familiar. In fact…

"Are you having trouble finding what you need?" Genis spun around in time to come face-to-face with the shopkeeper. He jumped back, a little startled.

"Uh…no!" he shouted on instinct, momentarily forgetting the fact that the shopkeeper was well within earshot and was not, in fact, deaf.

The man seemed puzzled. Then he smiled. "I see you've met my family."

The mage stared. "This is your family?" he said, sounding just a tad more incredulous then he would have liked. "I mean, not that that's weird or anything. Erm…uh…where are they?" he finished lamely.

A flicker of sadness crossed the man's features, but was gone as soon as it had come. "They're very sick," he said gravely. "My son ran off outside town one day and my wife chased after him. She found him near the Ice Temple. By the time they'd made it back here, both had come down with some sort of sickness. Not even my finest gels can cure it." He paused, sighing in resignation. "I fear Celsius has cursed them."

_Celsius' curse…_ Genis didn't know what to make of it, but he had an idea. Smiling, he approached the shopkeeper. "Don't worry mister, I've got an idea. Here's what I'm going to need…"

* * *

_"What are you doing exactly?" the shopkeeper had asked worriedly as he led the way for Genis._

_"It's an old secret of mine," the mage had replied. "A cure-all, if you will. Let's just see if it's all it's cracked up to be." They'd reached their destination and Genis smiled, a wave of familiarity and comfort washing over him as he left the shopkeeper behind._

Lloyd may have been more skilled with a forge—and boy, did he know _that_ from experience—but here, Genis was in his element, the one place where he could truly be bested by no other—the kitchen.

Closing his eyes for a moment as if meditating, he pulled out his kendama and tapped the ball a few times, muttering an incantation under his breath. After a moment he opened his eyes and cried, "Fire Ball!" while aiming the kendama at the stove in front of him. Instantly the burners flared to life, and the half-elf got to work. To start, Genis quickly and skillfully sliced up some kirima, threw it in a frying pan and placed it on the stove, hearing the satisfying sizzle. Next, he placed some onion in the pan alongside the fruit, anticipating the unique, blended flavor it would produce. He then added some spices, including some powdered red pepper to top it off.

He let the concoction fry for a few more minutes, flipping the contents over repeatedly to make sure they wouldn't burn. Finally, when it was ready, he took a deep breath. "Here goes something…" Concentrating for a moment, Genis suddenly flipped the contents of the pan up and over his shoulder. Turning around, he cried, "Wind Blade!" A small torrent of air surrounded the food in mid-flight, enveloping it and effectively shredding it to pieces. Just as he'd planned, the now-ground up food fell right into a bowl of rice on a nearby counter top. "Perfect," he mumbled.

Genis spent the next few minutes stirring the dish, making sure it was mixed just the right amount. Sure, it probably wasn't necessary, but as far as he could tell, why mess with something when it worked? Declaring the job done, he slipped on an oven mitt—it was a bit too large and came up way past his elbow—and carried the food out the door.

* * *

"Honey…is that you?" The woman was having a hard time speaking clearly, Genis could tell. Apparently her sight wasn't so great either.

"Umm…no," the half-elf said cautiously, sitting down on a chair next to her bed. "I'm one of his…erm…customers." _Yeah, that was smooth._ …_Why am I talking to myself?_

The shopkeeper's wife didn't seem to mind. Genis took the opportunity to get down to business—no, not _that_ kind of business. "Here," he said gently, holding out a spoonful of his self-dubbed 'kirima curry'. "Try some of this."

The woman slowly but surely ate the spoonful of food as Genis and the shopkeeper watched anxiously. And suddenly, she coughed violently. Genis was about to start panicking—and possibly running—when at that moment, she spoke.

"How much pepper did you pour on this stuff?"

The release was imminent. The shopkeeper drew Genis into an ecstatic embrace, lifting the mage clear off the ground as he shook the little guy back and forth. "You did it! She's cured!"

Genis was gasping for air by now. "Heh…not that this is awkward or anything, but could you put me down please?"

Later, after his son had eaten his share of the curry as well, the shopkeeper now stood in the lobby of the little item store along with Genis, who had gone back to his enigmatic searching. He had just about given up when suddenly the man tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you, by any chance, looking for these?"

Genis' face immediately lit up when he saw what was being presented to him. "Penguinist Gloves! I thought I'd never find them!"

The man smiled. "Take them, please. It's the least I could do."

Genis' expression now turned to one of reserve. "But…you forgot something. What was it I was supposed to do for you?"

The shopkeeper's smile never left his face. "What more could I ask from you?"

* * *

_Well, I guess it was a nice way to spend an hour_. Genis now found himself trudging back along the snowy streets of the city, back to the clock tower by the inn where he'd originally found himself on this adventure of his. But truthfully, he couldn't help but smile when he thought of that family, together once again. _So, this is how Lloyd feels most of the time nowadays. I could get used to it._

Now though, he had an objective to complete. Pulling out his kendama once more, he took aim at a nice mound of snow lying right by the stairs up to the inn. "Ice Tornado!"

Instantly, minute shards of ice swirled around the mound, and at the mage's command, began shaping it into a rough outline of what it was to become. After the spell had subsided, the half-elf began the finer portion of the project. Delicately, he shaped the top third of the mound a little wider than the bottom two, slimming the lower portions down considerably with his hands. He continued to shape the top, molding two long, jagged shapes that stuck out of the middle at angles.

The lower parts were less tricky. Not wasting any time, he formed a sort of upside-down funnel shape that segued into two slim columns—legs and feet. And to finish, Genis formed two protrusions at the figure's side—arms, at ease.

He stepped back, admiring his work. Now to finish it off. He closed his eyes. "_May the pure, cooling embrace of frost immortalize thee,_" he chanted, changing the incantation a bit so it wouldn't sound like he was about to kill someone. "Absolute!"

With a blinding flash and a shower of residual snow, Genis' newly-formed sculpture was now solidified as ice, further defining the features as he'd hoped it would. As he'd planned from the beginning, he slipped the gloves on the hands and tied the ribbons behind the head. It was complete.

_Ding…ding…_ What the? It was ten o'clock already. He hadn't expected it to take this long. "I guess all that's left to do is—" he started.

"Genis?"

The mage turned in time to see… "Presea!?"

The girl stood before him as if out of a dream, clad now in a deep purple sleeveless top that extended down to her waist, ending in a frilly skirt. She was also wearing black, skintight leggings that came to her knees. In addition, she'd had her hair cut; it came down to around her shoulders, no longer being tied back. Instead of her traditional ribbons she wore a hair band. And now, a smile was forming on her face as she gestured toward Genis' newly-completed ice sculpture. "Is that…me?"

Genis could tell he was blushing furiously, but at this point all concern over something like that had gone out the window. "Well…yeah," he managed to blurt out, trying to find his words. He couldn't believe it…Presea looked positively angelic. "But…it looks nothing like you anymore…" Indeed, the sculpture resembled the Presea of old, clad in her simple navy-blue skirt.

At this she laughed and reached out to take his hand, something that at this point wasn't too good for his heart rate. "I love it Genis…it's wonderful."

Genis decided to go for broke with a compliment. "Well…you look great, anyway." _Great!? GREAT!? What the hell was that?_

Still grasping his hand, Presea broke into a small blush, which further accentuated her features. "Thank you."

_Well, why stop there? You're halfway to the finish line! …Argh…stop talking to me! _Taking his mind's advice, Genis coughed nervously before continuing. "Um…Presea? You want to…spend the evening with me?" That's what he would have said, anyway, had he not completely tripped at the end. So instead, he ended up saying something along the lines of, "Youwannaspenevninwime?"

The girl giggled. She knew perfectly well what he had been trying to say, but decided to tease him a little. "I'm sorry Genis. What was that?"

The half-elf cleared his throat, fighting to keep his heart from hammering straight out of his chest. "I said…" he began.

Presea interrupted, however, stopping the mage completely in mid-sentence as she leaned over and planted a small kiss on his cheek. "I'd love to, silly." Seeing him completely dumbstruck, she laughed gently and ran a ways down the street, beckoning him to catch her. "Come on Genis! Let's not waste any time!"

The young mage almost took this statement as heartfelt advice from the one person in the entire world who would know the most about the value of time. And now he remembered Raine's words, words that he was hating more and more by the second. "Huh…meet up at the inn at midnight," Genis muttered as he ran after her, his heart soaring. "How are we going to fit in everything we want to do?"

* * *

Genis and Presea are really fun to write…not sure why though. In any case, I notice now that Presea may seem just a bit out-of-character. I'm assuming with my setting that she's been freed long enough to have become a bit more emotional and expressive than she was in the game. You know, like she's more human now and less…um…analytical, I guess. Anyways, that about wraps it up for Genis. Colette's up next!


	2. A New Experience

Namco owns all rights to _Tales of Symphonia_. I don't claim to own them. This work is not intended for any form of profit and has been written without permission.

This is Colette's installment of the series, being part two of eight. And I'm not really sure why, but I found this story _incredibly_ difficult to write. Seriously, it took me several months to work this one out, and I'm still not real satisfied with it. I guess it's just one of those things.

As always, happy reading!

* * *

Colette's Tale: _A New Experience_

With all of the time that she was afforded, Colette Brunel wasn't quite sure what she was going to do all by herself. Flanoir was beautiful, for sure, but even that wouldn't fill four hours. Presently, the Chosen was wandering somewhat aimlessly down one of the city streets, pausing every now and then to examine the occasional display window, regardless of what may have been in it. It wasn't all that stimulating, however, and for the sake of Martel was it cold. The steady snowfall made it difficult to see too far down the street; she had to squint to compensate for the sheer brightness of it. Colette could already feel the tips of her ears beginning to burn, paradoxically, from the chill. She was beginning to ponder returning to the inn and enjoying a nice cup of tea in front of a roaring fire when she tripped over something and fell face-first onto the snow-blanketed street.

"Colette, are you all right?" The girl looked up, still lying in the snow. At first she saw nothing but the sky, colored a dreary shade of misty white that matched the precipitation. Then, that some_one_ entered her field of vision and turned out to be none other than…

"Presea?" Colette said dazedly, a little disoriented from her tumble. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you."

Presea laughed, which Colette noticed was something that, just a little while ago, she never would have done. But now that the worlds were reunited and peace had settled in, the once-taciturn girl had opened up brilliantly, turning from lonely and distant to friendly and energetic. It was a welcome change, though one that still took some getting used to. "Don't worry about it. You should be careful not to trip so often."

The Chosen rose from the ground with the help of her angel wings and dusted herself off, knocking loose clumps of snow back down onto the road. Truthfully the fall hadn't done much to improve her internal temperature; that tea by the fire wasn't sounding too bad right about now. She noticed one thing that hadn't changed about Presea was her unwavering stoicism; the girl seemed completely unfazed by the weather, the snow falling gently and melting into her navy blue dress, leaving no trace behind. Suddenly an idea sprang to Colette's mind, and she instantly forgot all about the cold.

"Say, Presea…how about we do some shopping?"

Presea seemed to be taken slightly off-guard at this sudden, almost absurd request. But she eventually broke into a smile. "Sure Colette, that'd be great."

"Great!" Colette echoed, grabbing Presea's hand suddenly and yanking her down the street behind her. "Let's get started!"

* * *

Had any other member of their party been presented with this sort of situation, they would have immediately seen the inherent awkwardness of it. However, Colette was seemingly oblivious to the obvious separation in interest as she led Presea down the street, weaving her way a little haphazardly through the local pedestrians. Presea didn't say anything during this tenure; rather, she let Colette's enthusiasm run its course. She could only wonder (with an unfortunate tinge of apprehension) what exactly the Chosen was up to as she stopped in front of the shop she'd apparently been looking for.

"Here we are," the energetic Chosen pointed out. She indicated a rather large, over-decorated shop that seemed to dwarf all the other ones that happened to be within a block of it.

Presea followed Colette's gesture. "A clothing store?" she said a little warily. She turned her gaze to her companion. "But Colette, your clothes are just fine."

At this comment, Colette laughed as though Presea had just claimed to have seen Mithos handing out sweets to young children. "Not for me, silly," she said giddily.

"What?" Presea replied, her tone sepulchral. Suddenly she realized what Colette was talking about, but before she could even open her mouth to protest, the Chosen had grabbed the girl by the wrist and had yanked her through the door, into the shop.

As it turned out, the interior was just as gaudy as the exterior. The place was brightly illuminated by deep crimson-hued lanterns that complimented the shockingly pink walls. Ironically, the décor matched Presea's hair color almost flawlessly.

Colette turned to face Presea, who was now looking woefully out-of-place. "So?" she said expectantly.

It took Presea a moment to register all that had happened. Truthfully, she was now beginning to wonder if she'd gotten more than she'd bargained for. However, her newfound humanity prevented her from being so blunt, so instead, she pointed out, "I don't think I need any new clothes."

For the first time in a long while, Colette looked troubled. "Come on now, this'll be fun! You don't actually have to _buy_ anything."

"I don't?" replied Presea. She'd seen plenty of strange things along their journey, but this seemed borderline absurd. "But then what's the point of coming here if we aren't going to…"

"Ah, Presea," said Colette, nodding her head knowingly. "That's what makes it fun! You look around at different things and see if they look good on you!"

"I get to _try_ them _on_?"

"Of course."

"In front of everyone?"

This was met by a short pause. "…You've still got a lot to learn."

* * *

The fitting rooms weren't very spacious by any stretch or sense of the word, but Colette figured they'd have to do. She pushed one of the wooden stall doors open and almost forced her companion inside.

"What am I supposed to do in here?" Presea inquired.

The silence was maddening. Colette couldn't even imagine anyone being so…uneducated in something such as this, but she kept that to herself. "You just try on the clothes," she replied matter-of-factly. "Have some fun with it. Mix and match."

Presea began to protest only to find that the door had shut with a rather loud creak. She figured it would seem a little ridiculous to keep arguing at this point, if only to preserve her own sanity.

Feeling ludicrously self-conscious, she began disrobing, her only watcher being a full-length mirror in the center of one of the walls. It was probably a little irrational to be embarrassed, she thought to herself. After all, the mirror didn't seem to mind.

Still a little unsure of what she was doing, she began sifting through the pile of clothes in front of her. Colette seemed to have picked them all out at random without much regard to size or style. For some reason, it didn't really surprise her.

Suddenly, her face lit up as she found a dress that she liked. She quickly put it on, careful not to mess up her hair too much.

"Okay Colette, I'm ready!"

"Great!" Colette exclaimed from outside. She'd been beginning to wonder for a little bit about how Presea had been doing. After all, difficulties had been known to arise from time to time, especially with zippers and—

The door creaked open, and Presea stepped out cautiously, as though she were expecting a Judgment Ray to come flying at her from some odd angle. "Well, what do you think?"

Colette stared. Whatever she had been expecting, it definitely was not this. "Um…Presea? You're wearing exactly what you were before."

Presea, in turn, seemed confused. "What do you mean? My dress before was blue. This one is purple."

For the life of her, Colette could not tell the difference, though she supposed no one would know better than Presea herself. Still, the minimal change bugged her, and she pressed the girl further. "Come on Presea, that's not the point. Try something new! Be daring!"

"Daring…?" Presea repeated slowly. "But…I'm just putting on clothes."

This was too much. Colette grabbed Presea's arm and nearly dragged her back into the dressing room. "Don't worry, I'll help you out!"

"Wait, are you sure it's okay for you to be in here at the same time as—"

"It'll be okay, I've done this plenty of times before."

Presea was just about to ask Colette to recount exactly when she had "done this before", but the other girl was busy rummaging through the pile that Presea had just gone through minutes before.

"Here!" Colette said, holding up a frilly pink skirt and some white boots. "How about these?"

Presea was dumbstruck. The clothes looked fit for a ballerina maybe, but not her. But before she could protest, they were in her arms.

"Try them on," the Chosen insisted.

If Presea had felt self-conscious before about changing in front of a mirror, then having Colette stand there wasn't doing too much good. Turning around, she stripped down to her undergarments and tried to dress as fast as she could. Unfortunately, the dress ended up on upside-down. The boots were probably best left unmentioned.

Colette sighed. "No, silly, like this." She reached around and quickly fixed Presea's dress. After the boots had been put on properly as well, Colette stood back and admired her work. "You look cute!" she squealed.

Presea felt more awkward than anything. The pink was distracting…it looked too much like her hair. The boots were also uncomfortable. But then again, Colette had actually said she looked cute. So she must have taken a step in the right direction…right?

"Really?" she said incredulously.

Colette beamed, and it seemed as though the sun was positively radiating from her face. "Of course!" She was so happy for Presea…after all; this was an avenue of life that she'd been missing all this time!

"Well," Presea went on hesitantly, "I don't really like this dress. It looks too much like my hair and the skirt makes me feel…naked."

Colette nodded. "No worries, you just need to make a few adjustments. Here…" She began looking through the pile again, until at last she came up one more time with a similar-looking purple sleeveless top.

Presea shook her head. "The color is better, but it's still a skirt."

Colette thought about this for a second. "I know! Here you go." She handed Presea a pair of black skintight leggings. "That should do it."

A couple of size changes and a new pair of blue boots later, and Presea stood before Colette clad in her completely revamped outfit. The skirt was frilly but not terribly so, extending down to about mid-thigh, where the leggings continued to her knees.

Colette could barely contain her excitement. "You look…so…gorgeous!" she exclaimed. "I'm jealous."

Presea blushed. "You really think I look that good?"

"Of course I do. Come on, I can't wait to show everybody!"

Colette turned to leave, but Presea lingered questioningly. "Wait…what about the changing room?"

The Chosen looked back for a second and saw the remnants of what _used_ to be the changing room. Clothes were stacked five feet high, with random boxes of all shapes and sizes strewn about in no particular order. It looked more like a warehouse than anything.

"Um…someone will clean that up, I'm sure."

Presea smiled faintly. "If you say so."

* * *

After an altercation with the cashier in which Colette had forgotten to pay and had led Presea straight out of the store, the two found themselves once again on the streets of the Snowy City. Colette took a moment to pause and admire her handiwork.

"You know, Presea, you really look great. I'm glad we took the time to do this."

Presea, in turn, smiled. "Thank you Colette. I'm…really glad we did this too."

Colette's face turned from admiring to mischievous upon hearing this. "Well, in that case, there's one more thing I think we should take care of." Her mind was already racing with ideas for their next destination.

The smaller girl cocked her head to the side in question. "Oh? What's that?"

"I think..." Colette began, "…that this would be the perfect time for a new haircut!"

"What!?" Presea exclaimed, turning around in an attempt to escape her companion. But it was too late. The Chosen had already latched onto her arm and was dragging her in the opposite direction.

"Oh Colette, you can't possibly be serious…"

And it was at that moment that Colette knew that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

Again, I apologize…I really didn't like this one. Oh well. Maybe next time…


End file.
